


A Small Change of Plan

by Sister of Silence (Orcbait)



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Foreshadowing, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcbait/pseuds/Sister%20of%20Silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Ullanor, the Emperor of Mankind finds his schedules over full and decides to buy Himself some time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Change of Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I wrote for my buddy, V. who has this thing for this thing which I cannot tell you now because it would ruin the surprise. I would gift this to him if he actually had an account here!

Arlette frowned deeply as she looked at the intricate little maquette of the Imperial Palace, which now stood in the middle of the library in one of the few beams of light that could penetrate this deep into the Inner Sanctum. The sister of silence absently twirled the tip of her long, shorn up pony tail around her index and middle finger. She let go and her hand flashed through a series of intricate symbols. 

\- It is beautiful, my Emperor. - Her hand halted for a moment, and then she finally glanced up. - But what is it for? -

He merely smiled as his gaze moved from the maquette he had built to rest on her quizzical features. It broadened slightly when a thoughtful little wrinkle appeared in the bridge of her nose. 

\+ To buy us some time. +

  


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Fulgrim stalked through the eastern circumvent. Why were there no mirrors here? He had searched for over three hours now, and there was not a single mirror to be found. In fact, the Inner Palace was so utterly devoid of all but semi-reflective surfaces that he was beginning to think their Father may have some issue concerning mirrors. Surely he did not hate mirrors? How could one not like a mirror? They were so reflective and showed all of your glorious self and---

“WHAT IN THE WARP FULGRIM?!” 

Fulgrim halted and turned to his brother, Perturabo, who pointedly looked up at the ceiling. “What is it, brother?” Fulgrim inquired, the hint of a frown creasing his perfect brow. 

“Will you please stop strutting around naked?” Peturabo returned, still staring at the ceiling as if there was something incredibly interesting to see there. 

“Why? Surely the histo-archivers and holo-artists would wish to immortalise my appearance,” Fulgrim said as he attempted to gauge his appearance in the semi-reflective surface of an obsidian segment-panelled pillar. 

“There are none of those mortals here,” Peturabo said, frowning at the ceiling now. 

“True...” Fulgrim replied absently as he watched himself flex the muscles along his arms and then torso. 

  


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“You think this will work, then?” Sanguinius clasped his hands behind his back as he and Horus strolled through the pardaiza they had just entered; a small pond surrounded by hanging greenery. When they passed a stone hewn bench supported by angelic figures, Sanguinius sat down, his wings folding neatly behind him upon their pinions. 

“It will have to,” Horus returned as he sat down beside his handsome brother. “I do not think there is any other way we can bring that system to heel.” 

Sanguinius nodded sadly. “I had feared so. They are misguided, and I wish we could convince them to realise their misjudgement of us.” 

Horus rubbed his chin in thought. “Perhaps...” 

Sanguinius waited quietly. 

“Perhaps I shall ask Captain Sejanus.” 

  


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“Yes, Sobek. I am quite sure I left it right here.” 

Sobek watched his mentor pace around the guest quarters their Father had assigned to them. “It is not there,” Sobek pointed out, again. Indeed, the tome had gone. As had all their other belongings. 

“IT IS NOT HERE!” Ahriman shouted, pointing at the incriminatingly empty stand. 

Sobek resisted the urge to reply and simply kept quiet this time. 

  


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There was a loud roar, and then a crashing noise, and then one of the shutter walls came down with its panelling and hanging plants and all. It took Konrad Curze a long moment before he realised the world had not just started collapsing all around him. 

Well, it had, but not by itself. 

Angron struggled up from amid the splintered redwood and grape vines, spitting and growling with rage. The latter part was nothing unusual. 

“No door?” Konrad asked, knowing better than to divert attention to himself and doing it anyway. 

“Locked.” Angron spat, his gaze darting left and right as if searching for something. He had his axes in hand, chained to his wrists as ever. Konrad wondered if they would even come off yet. Probably not. Maybe that was why his weapons had not been taken? Konrad had not been able to find his own. Or any of the other possessions he had brought for that matter. Only the clothing he had worn yesterday – was it yesterday? He frowned. 

“You could have kicked down the door?” Konrad continued belatedly. A wall seemed a terribly unlikely way to make an exit. A door was weak, the hinges could be easily broken. 

Angron’s face warped into something more akin to a deamon than a man as renewed rage filtered into his features. “Could not break it.” 

Evidently, someone had kept the presence of mind to lock him in. Unfortunately that had not worked out. Konrad sighed. Why had he broken through their joined wall? Why not any of the other three? 

  


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Arlette walked across the library. She had put several tomes away, a task that had taken her the better part of the morning. She was certain there was a system to the way His private collection was ordered, but she had not yet been able to comprehend exactly what system that was. She had tried on every-other-size increments, by the colour of their back, by the third letter in the author’s name, by the millennia segment they had been published during, and even on the type of the parchment or paper used... to no avail. She had been able to return them mostly because there had been just enough empty spots on the shelves. 

Arlette shifted the cup of tea she held to her left hand. The porcelain had swiftly grown warm from the hot water. She walked to the eastern end, near one of the monumental window arches. As she passed the maquette she glanced sideways at it. It was truly beautiful and accurate too. She knew the Inner Courts well, and the Outer Circumvent. If not for the size, one would never notice the difference. 

\- My Emperor. – She signed at His back as she approached. 

\+ Aeschylus’ ‘Prometheia’ belongs in the central eastern section, 17th row, 7th shelf, and lot 372c. I have told you this before. +

\- I shall put it there immediately, my Emperor. – Arlette replied, her hand still flashing through her sign language even though it was not needed. Her other hand was beginning to hurt from the cup. 

\+ Switch it with the ‘Fiery Soul’, unattributed, to the starward northern section, 6th row, 2nd shelf, and lot 2482d. After which you must switch the ‘Fiery Soul’, unattributed, from there with ‘A Concise History of The Pan-Pacific Empire, volume 7’, to its spot in the central eastern section, 27th row, 12th shelf, and lot 5342a. You returned the ‘Nemathikaija’ correctly. +

One out of four. She must track the tome down and note the specifics of its location, appearance, make, author, topic and title. A few dozen more and she might be able to distinguish a pattern. She tried to keep the cup straight despite the pain as she finally reached His desk. 

\- My Emperor, it has been a while since you drank – She signed, her movements slower this time. She clenched her teeth as she held the cup, her fingertips burning. 

He glanced up then, His gaze briefly moving across her before meeting her gaze. It was strange, seeing Him without the gilded laurels normally gracing his brow. It had been a few weeks now, since he had given them to Horus but... she wasn’t quite used to it yet. It looked strange. Abnormal. As if something fundamental was now missing. She shook the feeling quickly when the hint of a frown started to crease His brow. Despite her blankness, He could still glean knowledge from her, although with more difficult than ungifted mortals. She emptied her mind as she had been trained to. There was no reason to worry Him further. 

The cup rose from her grip, hanging in mid-air as if it made perfect sense. Her gaze got stuck on it for a moment; until he gently took her hurt hand and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles, and the pain dwindled. 

  


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Rogal Dorn sat at the edge of the plaza connected to his room, reading a tome he had found. It concerned the various construction phases of the Greater Domes and the Outer Palace. He’d almost left the tome where it had lain, initially, until he had seen what was in it. Certainly, he wanted to study it. The Palace was an architectural wonder and he was certain it would pay heed to know it well. One never knew when such knowledge might pay off. In addition, he felt he could not have left the tome laying there. Though it was highly unlikely, if it found its way somehow in inappropriate hands the integrity of the Palace would be forfeit. 

Many of these diagrams were old, made at times set widely apart. And yet, and yet they appeared to have been drawn by the same hand. He had studied many architectural tomes and building plans alike; he could recognise a singular hand when he saw one – the way ‘I’s were written, the slanted curl to ‘g’s, the edging of columns, the symbols for angles and ratios. 

And yet, some of these diagrams were centuries apart, or more. 

  


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“Nonesense.” Kor Phaeron remarked sternly as he crossed his arms. 

Lorgar shook his head. “No, it makes sense.” 

They were walking down a corridor, circumvent around a series of exquisite gardens. The rough stone walls and featureless pillars and arches of the corridor seemed bland and empty compared to the luxurious greenery. 

“If there are layers to reality, it must be possible to pierce them,” Lorgar continued, repeating his previous argument in different words. “If time applies to them as it applies to us – to our layer – then it’s ---.”

“If. IF.” Kor phaeron interupted him. “If. Boy. IF. We do not know.” 

Lorgar scowled, but it was more in petulance than mature annoyance. He avoided the older man’s gaze. 

“If there are layers to reality, it is far more likely they are nothing like the one that applies to us,” Kor phaeron continued, his tone lecturing as he clasped his hands behind his back, squinting slightly as if there was something to see at the end of the corridor. “If time applies to any or all, at all, it will likely work in very different ways.” 

  


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“Aye, I had always been convinced the world was flat!” Leman Russ roared with barely contained laughter. “Surely, when I saw it from space, even, I thought it was still flat for a while. Like a round flat-bread.” He burst into laughter then, evidently finding his own stupidity quite hilarious. 

Omegon frowned. Idiot. 

“So, ya see, Alpharius,” Leman Russ continued undisturbed. “T’war quite the shock!” 

“Indeed, I do,” Omegon replied smoothly, effortlessly keeping the exasperation from his voice. “But Magnus convinced you then, in the end.” 

“Nope!” Leman Russ laughed. 

Omegon listened to the thundering sound for a long while and wondered if the much larger primarch was going to run out of air any time soon. It did not seem likely. 

“Ya see, he’s been mewling about this rock he found, on this planet he passed,” Leman Russ continued his tale, chuckling before taking a deep draw from his mug. It was actually just water, but that was not to be helped. 

“Oh?” Omegon asked, suddenly perking up. They had not heard about anything... could it be related to? Interesting. “Magnus is interested in geology? I would never have thought that.” 

“Magnus is interested in everything but what he should be,” Leman Russ pointed out. “Fighting!” He needlessly added a moment later, when Omegon kept silent. 

“So, what of this planet?” Omegon asked, modulating a measure of ridicule to his voice. 

“Oh, Magnus believes there is magic there,” Leman Russ replied on a tone that made it obvious he doubted there was such a thing as magic. “These, mind tricks he does, you know the thing. He mewls that these people know something.” Leman Russ shrugged and refilled his glass. 

“Our brother has always been fanciful,” Omegon said solemnly, though inwardly he was grinning. “If he finds anything, surely he’ll run straight to Father?” 

Leman Russ nodded. “Obivously. S’like a child.” 

Omegon smiled, and resist the urge to steeple his fingers. 

  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------

  


Erebus was strolling down one of the various side corridors along the Viae Imperialis. In truth, he had quite lost his way, but he was in no hurry to get anywhere or do anything so it did not matter. He simply walked on, quite lost in thoughts, too. 

Until he suddenly struck something hard and fell backwards with a well-meant curse upon his lips. 

Tiny stars exploded behind his eyes when his head struck the marble floor and it took him a long moment to regain composure. He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked up at what he had walked into. And frowned. 

There was nothing there. 

He had felt as if he had walked straight into a wall... but there was nothing there. The path simply continued on. He rose, slowly, and stretched out a hand, even more slowly. And just when he thought he had somehow been mistaken, his fingers brushed past something solid. And invisible. The path, the Palace itself, simply continued on beyond it. He put his palms against it, pushing it experimentally. A frown slowly creased his brow. Strange. 

What magic was this? 

  


\-----------------------------------------------------------------

  


Arlette was sitting in the window-sill of the central window arch. She reclined slightly, her feet up against the vertical sill as she glanced outside at stars that ought to be above, not before, her. Night had fallen and the sky was clear. The moon hung silent and silvery and large amid the smattering of twinkling lights. 

She sat there for a long time, her mind quiet and her eyes simply gazing at the galaxy beyond. So many stars... They had seen so few of them. She turned her head slightly. The entire eastern side was yet unexplored, and they were so close. Perhaps--

\+ Rogal will take his fleet to the eastern fringes. +

Arlette nodded faintly, her only thought one of acknowledgement as her mind drifted once more. She felt content, counting the infinite stars. Until she heard a sudden thud. Light, but loud in the utter silence of the library. 

He did not look up, but she did. 

Arlette jumped out of the window-sill and paced around, searching, though not exactly sure for what. She walked across the area, trying to find the source. She passed the maquette and... She stopped. And walked back. Backwards. 

On the other side of the glass dome surrounding the maquette stood a small figure, pushing and knocking the glass. She sank through her haunches and looked at him, taking in his appearance from his tattooed face to his grey robes. It took a long moment for his name to surface from the vast amounts of names stored within her mind. 

Erebus. 

She smiled as she watched him explore the confines. He could not see her, of course. 

He was staring intently at the glass, studying it, the frown creasing his brow adorable on his tiny features. And then he looked up. 

At her. 

She could tell from his reaction, that he saw her. How was that possible? He started to back away. Quick as a snake she reached in and snatched him out. He squirmed valiantly, and with more strength than he should be able to wield in his tiny state. She tried to hold him without hurting him but he made it terribly difficult, wrestling her fingers as he did. In the end she cupped her hands one over the other, keeping a tiny crack open, as she ran back. 

She did not sign this time, she could not, and need not. She simply trotted up to Him as He had already noticed her. He did not say anything, not at first. He simply turned towards her, and she opened her hands to reveal the tiny Astartes sitting on her palm. 

He frowned most disapprovingly, and the tiny Astartes glared right back at Him. 

Arlette scowled lightly and picked the little one up by the back of his robes, turning her hand and dropping him on the back of it. He sprawled onto his stomach and made indignant noises she could not quite comprehend. The held the middle ground between speech and squeaks. Before he had the chance to get up she crooked her middle finger and locked his waist under it. 

She moved her right hand so that it was in the shrunk Astartes his field of vision. – That was very bad. – she signed, her movements sharp and swift. – You will not tell anyone, and if you do, they will not believe you. –

The little Astartes made noises back, and she supposed he was trying to reason with her using his infamous rhetoric. She’d heard him do it before. She cared not. One did not go against the Emperor’s will, let alone openly defy Him. 

She scowled again, remembering the little one’s temerity. She tugged up his equally tiny robe to reveal his just as tiny rear. It would seem there were tattoos even there. Her frown deepened, and she made a mental note of asking one of her sisters to take an interest to the Word Bearers their recent practises. 

She then thwacked her index finger against his back end, and judging by the squeal and then continuing stream of noises, the Astartes was not pleased. She did it several more times. He would learn from his mistakes. Eventually. 

When she thought it was enough, she once more picked him up by the neck of his robe and glanced around. They could hardly put him back with the others now. He would surely tell them, and He needed more time. 

It was then that her eyes fell on the empty tea glass. It was tall and slightly bell shaped. She leaned over the desk, and dropped the tiny Astartes in it. There. 

\+ A sound plan. +

She almost startled. She had almost forgotten... how had she just almost forgotten... she shook her head. It had been a long day. 

\+ You must rest +

She glanced up at Him, a frown most definitely creasing his brow now. She raised her hand to sign, but then had to raise it further to suddenly suppress a yawn as sleep tugged at her. She nodded vaguely and then noticed her eyes were trying to fall closed. She struggled a little, but she was so tired. 

A moment later she sank through her knees where she stood. He lightly caught her, standing right beside her in that very instant. He lifted her up and walked through the library. It appeared to skip and shift around Him, but His strides did not match the speed with which His surrounding slid by Him. 

When He stopped walking, He had already put her down on the sleeping platform. He glanced outside through the diamond-paned windows that truly revealed the sky. The moon hung large and high behind the snowy peaks. 

He turned and strode to His other desk. The tea glass stood there already, the tiny Astartes in it, looking around with his hands against the glass. 

He frowned down at it. Considered what to do. It was only one Astartes, he would surely not be missed. Perhaps He could simply remove him? Perhaps. He picked up a small bowl, with a little hole in its bottom, up from his desk and put it upside down across the glass. One could never be too careful. 

This was not as planned. 

  


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TO BE CONTINUED… 

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it. And please, share this story freely but credit me and link back to me. Thank you!


End file.
